Brendan Cowell's previous screen writing credit was for the woeful comedy Save Your Legs, a film so poor in concept that how it ever came to production simply beggars belief.
Ruben Guthrie, fortunately, proves to be a few notches above his Indian-based cricket caper. Adapted by Cowell from his own stage play, he also directs with some confidence.
The film centres, as the title eponymously suggests, on the character Ruben Guthrie (Patrick Brammall), a high-flying advertising guru enjoying the hedonistic excesses that are perceived as integral to that profession; his persona neatly fits the acronym Lombard – a lot of money but a right dick. Enjoying the trappings of his lifestyle, he drunkenly jumps from a ledge as a stunt narrowly avoiding fatal injuries. This proves too much for his beautiful and long-suffering Czech fiancée who walks out on him but advises she could return if he can stay off the drink for a year and turn his life around. The film then chronicles Ruben's life as he attempts to do just that.
It is at this juncture that the film is at its strongest. Ruben's journey takes something of a random trajectory as he finds a lack of support from close family, colleagues and friends all of whom seem to have their own selfish motives in their dealings with him. Patrick Brammall brings great nuance to his role, injecting depth into his character and carrying the film squarely on his shoulders. The supporting cast – Jack Thompson and Robyn Nevin as the estranged, alcohol-soaked parents; Alex Dimitriades as the caustic gay best friend; Jeremy Sims as the troubled boss and Harriet Dyer as the superficial flake from the AA group who ends up in his bed are all assured in their roles. The less said about Brenton Thwaites' poorly acted, poorly written role as the new social-media face of advertising, the better.
Direction from Cowell was well-paced and cinematography was good, only occasionally let down by some sloppy editing. Locations were well chosen and Guthrie's exclusive waterfront property in which many scenes were shot, always gave the impression of being a trophy house rather than a home. His over the top bar, which amusingly stayed in situ during his abstinence, would not have disgraced the swankiest New York private club.
But at just over 90 minutes the film needed more. It lacked enough wit to be considered a full comedy and required more bite. Guthrie's story alone was not enough for a cinematic release. Although it rarely betrayed its theatrical origins, the story needed to expand to explore more themes, to perhaps satirise the advertising industry and those who inhabit its self-absorbed world. Nonetheless, the film still delivers some punches and Patrick Brammall's performance alone merits great praise.
